Wedge's POV
by Androgene
Summary: Set during Episode 4-6. Seen thru Wedge's POV. Completed a long time ago. Was formerly under Cyberoid13


Name : Cyberoid13

Website : www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/3113

Email : cyberoid13@yahoo.com

Title : Wedge's Point-of-View 

Summary : A couple of missing scenes from ESB and ROTJ, all narrated from Wedge's POV. Minor spoiler for ANH. 

Date of completion :

Category : (Rebellion) drama - missing scenes

Rating : PG

Disclaimer : All Star Wars characters belonged to George Lucas. I don't owe them and I don't make money from them.

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It's been a Standard week and still no news of them. Not of Luke, or Leia nor Han. I know things got really messy and confusing during our evacuation from Hoth, but still...I can't shake this nagging feeling in me that the three of them have somehow ran into trouble - again. 

Han, I could understand. After all, he's a smuggler with lots of unsavoury enemies wanting his hide. The princess? Well, she was one of the Rebellion's main brains. The Empire would love to get their hands on her at any cost. But Luke? I don't understand the Empire's interest in him, if the rumour mill's correct. 

When I met him on Yavin Four, he was just a kid. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, half-innocent and so swept along by the flow of events, he had no time to stand back and just process his feelings. I admit I felt pretty apprehensive when they put him in an X-wing against the Death Star, but he proved himself beyond anyone's expectations. And I knew right then that the galaxy had something special in mind for the kid.

For all his heroics, Luke was an extremely likeable person, open and friendly, honest and optimistic. None of the cynical war veteran attitude, and that was a refreshing change for all of us. He could make us laugh when the squadron most needed the release. Everyone likes him, especially the females. 

I heard this firsthand from the females in the Rebellion. Luke's boyish looks, awkward charms and endearingly shy behaviour all made him a long sought-after object of desire by the females in the Rebellion. But as far as I know, the guy never approached any of them. Which itself prompted some friendly teasing from his squadron mates. When I asked him, this faraway look would come into his eyes and he said most seriously that there was someone out there for him, and he was just waiting for their paths to cross.  

Huh. 

I never understood that. Just like I never understood how he could pull off stunts X-wings weren't designed for and lived to tell the tale. Luke's only been with the Rogue Squadron for a short while, and his perchance for impossible stunts swiftly earned him a reckless reputation. 

I don't believe that. 

Luke may be passionate and vocal about his beliefs and determined to set things right, as he see it, but I don't believe him to be a reckless person. Han Solo deserved that title. Like Luke once told me, he knew in his gut what to do and how to do it. And I believe him, just like I believe him when he claimed his father was a Jedi. The lightsaber he carried was more than enough proof. No one in his right mind would carry such a distinctive weapon around, not with the Empire around and the Emperor's notorious hatred for the ancient religion.

But I'm digressing. 

You see, other than the fact that Luke was a young hotshot fighter-pilot and a close friend of the princess, there was no reason why the Empire should be so interested in him. He was a Commander, and though he had his share of leadership, he was simply not high up enough to know some of the Rebellion's secrets. Yet the latest rumours on the grapevine had it that a bounty of a staggering amount was placed on his head, and he was wanted alive.

You heard that? Alive.

Most of the Empire's bounties on the Rebellions didn't specify what kind of condition the Rebel must be in. Only those in the higher ups were needed to be captured alive for interrogation. Luke Skywalker was among one of those few. It puzzled a lot of people, even Luke himself. There were lots of speculations and some of it centred around the possibility that Luke may be a threat to the Emperor.

And that had me very worried. Luke was a squadron mate and my bunkmate. Despite our very different backgrounds, we were close friends. And when I rendezvoused with the Rebellion Fleet and discovered he was MIA, I was concerned. So were the rest of the Rogue Squadron. We were a tight-knitted group, and Luke's apparent disappearance worried us all. 

For several days, I waited around the Rebellion Fleet, doing my duties while checking with the control centre for any news of them. Luke, Leia and Han were fast friends - Leia and Han suspiciously more than just friends - and whatever trouble they were in surely spelled the Empire. 

A familiar shape drifting alongside the Calamarian cruiser I was on sent a jolt through me. I recognised the shape of the freighter, and before I knew it, I was running for the hanger bays. That familiar round, flat, white ship could only belong to one person, and wherever that person was, it was almost a guarantee that the other two would be with him. 

I dashed into the hanger-bay just in time to see the Millennium Falcon touched down on the deck. The ramp lowered, and I was there, standing at the bottom, staring expectedly up into the interior of the ship.

Two persons appeared at the head of the ramp. One of them was the princess; I was relieved to find she was safe. But the other...shock replaced my relief. 

"Luke?" I whispered. 

Luke Skywalker, the bright spot in the Rebellion, endless well of optimism and hope, was teetering with exhaustion, battered and severely wounded. His head was bowed, face hidden beneath a sweaty mop of hair, as he leaned heavily against Leia. A blanket was wrapped around him, and he seemed so much smaller in it. The kid was a walking wreck. 

Luke and Leia's first step down the ramp jolted me from my paralysis. I yelled for a medic team, rushing up the ramp to give my friend a hand. Leia gave me a grateful look. Despite his small stature, Luke was no lightweight. 

My friend slumped against me, refusing to meet my eyes, as I carefully helped him down the ramp. The shivering I could feel racking his body heightened my anxiety. I looked at Leia, but she turned away, unable to meet my eyes. A large group of people had gathered around the Millennium Falcon, presumably to welcome their heroes back. But they fell silent, when they saw the pitiful state Luke was in.  

I tightened my hold on my friend, wishing I could shield him from the public eyes. In some ways, Luke was an intensely private person and I knew this would grate on him. As quickly and gently as I could, I eased him onto the hover-stretcher.

I saw the bruises and cuts on his face, saw his blank stare directed upward as he laid down. Something akin to pain cut my heart. Beneath the feverish light, those blue eyes were dull, lifeless, so tormented. I have seen him depressed, grieving, hurt before but never this...hell in his eyes and the absolute loss of his innocence. The sight was even worse than his injuries. 

"Luke?" I reached out to grasp his hand, but I couldn't find it.

Frowning, I looked down at his hands and got the second shock of my life. Where his right hand would be was just a bloody cauterised stump wrapped in the protective covering of a bacta mitten. No wonder he was cradling his arm so carefully; it must've hurt like hell.  

I looked back up at his face and saw him watching me. There was something in those tormented eyes, like he knew a terrible secret no one else did. Then he turned away, shutting his eyes tightly against the outside world. 

I let the medics whisked him away to the medical suite, unable to get over what I've seen.

"Princess?" I asked hesitatingly, not really sure I wanted to know anyway. "What happened to him?"

Leia just sighed, and for a moment, she looked far older than her twenty-odd years. "Darth Vader set a trap for him."

I stared at her, gaped actually. Darth Vader?! Set a trap for Luke Skywalker? And the kid actually escaped with his life?! My gaze swung back to the exit the medical team had left by. At what cost did he paid for his life? 

I looked around, finally noticing Chewbacca standing close to a black man in a cape. I frowned. "Where's Captain Solo?"

Impossibly, Leia looked as though she wanted to cry. It didn't take an empath to know something bad had happened to Han.

"I'm sorry," I apologised awkwardly. "I didn't mean..."

"It's all right," she said in a voice close to breaking. "He's still alive - I hope."

The Princess took a deep breath, pulling a semblance of calm about her. "Excuse me, Commander, there's some guests I need to settle in."

I watched the princess leave the hanger-bay, with two security guards escorting the black man. But my mind was not on them anymore; it was back to the man I called friend and the look of death in his eyes.   

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Luke Skywalker certainly knew how to make an entrance.

That was the first thought that went through my mind when he finally joined the briefing session. Entering the briefing room so quietly that no one even noticed him, volunteering for the sabotage team to Endor, surprising the heck out of all of us. Well...it certainly was dramatic enough. Especially when all of us witnessed Leia's joyous greeting and Han's no-less warm hello.

Part of me was disappointed he volunteered for the Endor mission. It would mean he wouldn't be joining Rogue Squadron in the second Death Star run. I honestly could use a man like him for the run. The rest of me was busy trying to adjust to the changes in the friend I knew.

The last time I saw him, he had recovered from his physical injuries and was given a prosthesis hand for the one he lost. He looked almost like his old self, the key word being almost. 

He never told anyone what happened to him on Bespin. It was the princess' account that told us he had fought against Darth Vader in a lightsaber duel and survived. That alone was a triumph and added to his heroic reputation. Everyone who went up against Vader died horribly. But I knew, though his physical wounds were all but gone, his inner wounds still bled.  

I remembered the haunted look in his eyes. I remembered the walls he was building around himself, shutting everyone out. He didn't laugh, and he smiled even less. His open nature was gone, the man withdrawing deep within himself. 

Vader was a Sith Lord, and his power was beyond that of an ordinary man. Whatever the Dark Lord did to Luke, I couldn't imagine, except it changed the man irrevocably. The bright optimistic person we all knew was gone, replaced by an almost virtual stranger. 

Then he disappeared for a very long time. No one knew where he went to, not even Leia. Even if she did, she kept his secret. 

When he finally returned, I could barely recognised him. The new Luke possessed a deep and unshakeable calm, prone to actions no one understood but worked with brilliant success. He carried himself with a confidence that was not evident before. But it was his eyes that made people uneasy in his presence for the first time. His blue eyes, always keen, became penetrating. It made people feel exposed in his presence, as though he knew all their secrets.    

Wherever he went to, whatever he did, it changed him. Luke came back, a man stripped to his bare essence and transformed to this enigmatic creature. Hardened, dangerous and possessing a kind of power no one understood. 

But I think I do, at least a part of it. When I saw him in that black Jedi outfit, and a new lightsaber attached to his belt, I knew what he had become.     

A Jedi.

Like his father before him. 

And I knew Luke Skywalker could never fly with Rogue Squadron again. 

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It was the party of the century.

I've attended parties before, but none could match the intensity or the massive scale of this one. Half of the Rebellion Fleet was down on Endor, celebrating the downfall of the Empire with the dwarfy, furry Ewoks. Everyone was drunk on victory and sheer happiness. 

There was music and dancing, laughter and tears. Everyone, in some way or the other, had lost someone and tonight we toasted to their memories, mourned their deaths. It was as much as a kind of wake, as it was a celebration. 

Rogue Squadron was no exception. We've lost a number of excellent pilots, all of them giving their lives for the Rebellion and a cause they believed in. But mostly we were down on Endor to celebrate, and in unspoken agreement, to find our missing friend.

Han and Leia were there, the love between them plain for all to see. But Luke was conspicuously missing. When I realised he wasn't with the sabotage group, I grew worried. Jumpy, even. Leia finally pulled me to one side and told me Luke was all right and he would be back soon.

I wondered how she could be so sure. No one had heard from him. I was still worried, until a couple of arriving pilots from their fireworks duty told me they had spotted what seemed like a funeral pyre in the forests.

The news began to spread.  

Luke had gone up to the Death Star, confronted the Emperor and Darth Vader and killed them both. I didn't know how true the stories were, but I shuddered when I realised how close I came to killing my close friend in the second Death Star run. 

Then Luke himself appeared, accepting exuberant hugs from Leia and Han. I felt myself relaxing visibly when I saw his black-clad presence. He was here, safe and unharmed. Though I wouldn't attest to injuries. He was carrying himself gingerly, as though the slightest bump would cause him physical pain.

Luke came towards me, a smile on his face. I saw peace and serenity in his eyes, and a happiness tinged with sadness. I gave him a fierce bear hug, feeling him wince slightly under the pressure of my arms but nonetheless returning my embrace. 

"You all right?" was the first thing I asked when we pulled apart.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Wedge." 

I looked at him closely, seeing the small lines of pain bracketing his mouth. "Two hours."

He looked at me quizzically. 

"Two hours to celebrate. Then you're going to tell me exactly what happened. I know you preferred to keep it to yourself but that's not going to do you any good."

Luke smiled tiredly. "You got a deal."

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"Here," I handed the gourd of sweet Ewok wine to Luke, "have some of this. Careful, it kicks."

Luke accepted the small wooden gourd of wine and sipped from it. At once he started coughing, eyes watering. I chuckled, settling down beside him, with my own gourd of wine cradled carefully in my lap.

"Told you to be careful." I took a sip of my own portion of the fiery wine.

"What did they made this from?" he asked in a husky whisper. 

"Some kind of berries. It's quite mild actually."

Luke snorted. He took another sip of the fiery liquor and set the gourd away from him. "That's it for me."

We sat in companionable silence, listening to the sounds of the night on Endor. Way below us, the party was still in full swing; it showed no signs of dying down yet. Luke had celebrated for a while, then he retreated to this isolated concealed spot high up in the trees. It took me ages to find him, and when I did, it took an Ewok to show me how to get up here. The path was hidden and it boggled me as to how Luke managed to find his way up to this tiny tree hut.

"So what happened?" I finally asked him.

Luke shrugged. "I went up to the Death Star, confronted Vader and the Emperor. They died and I lived."

"I know that." I gestured to the party below us. "They all think you killed Vader and the Emperor."

Luke let out a humourless bark of laughter. "Is that what they're saying?"

"Is that really what happened?"

"Do you know how I got up here?" he asked me, gesturing to the tiny platform we were on.

I blinked, taken by surprise at the change of topic.

"I used the Force. A single jump, Force-aided, and I'm up here. It was easy, much easier than before, before I was a full Jedi."

A full Jedi? I thought he came back to the Rebellion already a full Jedi.

"My master told me I've to face my trial before I could become a full Jedi, a test of my faith. He told me I had to face Vader again. That's why I went to the Death Star, to face him again."

A chill ran down my spine. What kind of test had it been? To face his worst nightmare alone. I couldn't imagine the kind of torment he must've gone through to survive and still retain his soul.   

"I was walking on the knife's edge between Light and Darkness up there. The Emperor wanted me to join him, and he tempted me with thoughts of vengeance." Luke shivered. "When I saw how badly overwhelmed the Rebel Fleet was, when Vader threatened to turn my sister, I almost did."

His sister?! I gaped at Luke, speechless with shock.

"I can still feel the Emperor's taint on me. When I refused to join him, he tried to kill me. If Vader hadn't intercepted, killed the Emperor to save me, I'd be dead at the Emperor's hands."

My jaws hit the ground. Vader? Killed the Emperor to save Luke? Why-? How-? 

Luke looked at me steadily. I instinctively braced myself for the bombshell.

"Vader redeemed himself with that one act. When he died, he was no longer Darth Vader. He was Anakin Skywalker once again."

Anakin Skywalker? My brain went numb. Vader? Skywalker? He's-? No.

"Yes, Wedge. Vader is Anakin Skywalker. He's my father."

To say I was stunned was an understatement. Of all the bombshells I was expecting, this wasn't it. Vader was Luke's father? Several things immediately clicked into places in my mind. The haunted look he wore after his return from Bespin, the walls he built, the brooding, almost secretive streak that he possessed before he disappeared.

I understood why he was so reluctant to tell anyone his secret. If he had, he might lose his friends, or even his rank. He would not be trusted to undertake any kind of mission. There would always be fear that he was influenced by Vader and might betray them at any moment. 

Now the point was moot. 

Vader and the Emperor were dead. The Empire was crumbling, and Luke, for his efforts, was a hero. Still I shuddered. How long had he carried this terrible secret with him? Every time he went into battle against the Empire, he must've known he was consciously trying to commit patricide. How did he bear up under the stress?

I looked at my friend, with respect and sympathy. 

I've always known the galaxy had something different in mind for Luke. I wasn't sure if all these hardships he had to go through to be a Jedi was worth putting his soul at risk, but I understood. In my own way, I understood what it takes to confront one's inner demons and triumph over it. 

Something in my face, or it could be those Jedi senses of his, told him what I felt. His tense posture slumped, relief blatant in his body as he hid his face into his arms. I reached out to him, wrapping a comforting arm about his shaking shoulders.

"Thank you," his voice was muffled in the folds of his arms.

"That's what friends are for." I snagged the gourd of wine by his feet. "Here, we need a toast."

Rising his head, he gifted me with a grateful smile, then took the gourd. "To the Rebellion, and our dead. To Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and my master."

"To them."

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~ the end ~


End file.
